Red Mist Saga:Black Dawn
by Jesseson
Summary: Set in the Red Alert 2 universe shortly after the Soviet invasion. An ex-commando is recruited to eliminate a new Soviet threat.


The Red Mist Saga

Part 1: Operation Black Dawn#

They were coming. The dull rumble of the army jeep up the dirt road was unmistakable to a highly adept ex-soldier. How easy it would have been to pick off the jeep and its occupants with any sort of weapon. Unfortunately the bloodshed would come later, this jeep belonged to the good guys.

Colonel Zach Oldson sat on the front porch of his little home. It wasn't much, a single floor with a few rooms and a fading white paint job. The nearest town from this deserted Illinois location# was 15 miles south on rough roads and almost non-existent paths. That didn't bother Zach, he grew his own food, had a trusty Lab to keep him company, and was completely isolated from the civilized world. One word described it--PEACE.

Now that peace was shattered by this olive drab jeep that pulled up to his own little world. Zach got up off the porch as the jeep stopped in front of the house and began to lazily stroll toward it. Before the jeep even stopped the passenger door swung wide open and out stepped a Giant who would make any enemy run and quiver in fear. General Patrick O ' Colin was head of the U.S.'s super secret Black Ops Core and Zach's former Superior officer.

"My, my Oldson," The General's thick Southern drawl was unmistakable, "nice place you got here."

"Yeah, so what's it to you?"

"Not much, but I didn't come here to help give you pointers on redecorating," the General pulled a manila folder out of his perfect uniform, "Uncle Sam needs you."

"Cut the crap, I quit ten years ago I'm not going back in because some bureaucrat in Washington says so."

"Just read what's in the damned folder."

Zach took the folder from the General's muscular hand and read the front. On it in big red letters read: CLASSIFIED. Zach glance skeptically at the General and then opened it. Inside was a wealth of documents that he recognized as papers detailing an invasion.

"Holy shit," Zach gaped.

"That doesn't begin to describe it. Those Commies bastards have thrown every weapon down to a spear at us. Approximately 3 _million_ troops are crossing various borders into the country even as we speak."

"Why not hit 'em back?" Zach thumbed through Intel photos of Soviet tanks and artillery smashing some Texas town.

"Tried," the General shrugged, "Commie Psychic freaks already took out _all_ of our nuclear capabilities. We are sitting ducks."

Zach whistled softly. "Well this is one hell of a situation, but I quit."

"Listen," the General leaned real close to Zach, "either you come or I'll take this-" he flashed a silenced 9mm at Zach "-and shoot your leg then drag you to my jeep."

Zach glared at the General and smiled, "You don't have the balls. Besides it's not even loaded."

Patrick growled and then went on, "Fine we can pay you. How much?"

"I don't want money. Hell I live way out here; I don't have a phone, radio, or even a TV. What good is money to me?"

"Fine what do you want?" The General growled.

"You know I was once part of the Dark Knight Commando group. We ran missions all throughout Russia even before the first war. We went in there and removed the iron curtain, their nuclear arsenal, and their sub pens. After the war we continued to destroy Russian facilities to ensure they would never pose a threat again. All in all I commanded a total of twenty-five commandos. Twenty are lying deep in Russia rotting away because you wouldn't extract their remains.

"Their families know nothing of what happened to them. For me to join your little crusade here, I want their families to know what happened to them, I want the dead commandos' bodies removed from Russia and properly buried, and last I want each of the members of the Black Knights to be given awards they should have received."

Patrick roared in anger, "We can't do that you little bastard! It would compromise our security, people would turn against us. We would look like the bullies of the world-"

"Its either that or you can let the Reds steam roller over us."

General Patrick looked as if he would kill Zach with a single finger and then grind up the corpse. After a few moments silence he muttered a quick "deal".

Zach smiled evilly at Patrick and followed him to the olive drab jeep. He climbed into the rear of the vehicle and the corporal behind the wheel put the pedal to the metal. They were off in an instant and began the journey to a nearby helicopter-landing site.

General Patrick O'Colin pulled a brief case from under his seat and put his thumb on a small square on the front of it. It whirred for a second then opened. Patrick pulled out several photos and schematics. "Here," he handed them to Zach who carefully thumbed through them.

The first photo was of a massive Soviet ship moored in some distant location. "She's called the _Black Dawn_," the General said as Zach stared at the photo. "She's currently anchored off of Miami, which is held by the Commies. Intel says she's being rearmed with some new missiles-" Zach turned to the next photo of giant missiles being loaded aboard the ship "-these missiles are armed with special biological warheads. Each warhead contains the Red Mist virus.

"The _Black Dawn_ is going to sail for Europe in 48 hours. Our sources indicate the mission of the ship is to launch these missiles into England and France. The virus would kill millions and render our allies useless in this war. Your mission is to destroy the ship and all the missiles."

"What are the effects of this virus?" Zach inquired as he thumbed through the schematics of the ship.

"The virus was genetically engineered in some Soviet think tank. It mutates very rapidly and is almost 100% fatal within twenty-four hours. Once inhaled or exposed to it immediately mutates into three strands. One attacks the central nervous system causing paralysis, headaches, muscle spasms, blackouts, and eventually death in 33% of cases.

"The second strain attacks the lungs. It causes shortness of breath and eventually you drown in your own blood. The third strain attacks everything else with the sole purpose of making new 'Infector' strains which will move on to the next host."

"Hol-ee Shit."

"That doesn't begin to describe it. Our sources in Eastern Europe tell us that Soviet forces in Poland and the Ukraine are being vaccinated against the 'Flu'. The only problem with that is the forces already received those vaccinations, so we believe that after those missiles are launched the Soviet forces will invade Europe. If they did the battle time could be measured in hours."

Zach swallowed softly, "This sounds like a nightmare I can't wake up from."

"Well its not and the world and millions of lives now rests in your hands."

The jeep suddenly skid to a stop. In front of it sat a massive transport helicopter waiting for lift off. The jeep started moving again this time into the massive cargo section of the chopper. Once the vehicle was secured the massive turbines of the helicopter roared to life. It took off moments later and was on its way.

"Where to?" Zach asked the General as he got out of the jeep and walked around the cargo area.

"Portland, Maine for briefing and preparation. Then onto the aircraft carrier _Chrono_ for deployment. If I were you I'd get some rest."

"Good idea," Zach said as he sat down in one of the helicopter's empty troop seats. He closed his eyes and let the whirr of the helicopter blades lull him into a peaceful sleep.

***************

The sudden jar of the helicopter hitting turbulence woke Zach from his black, dreamless sleep. He stretched with what little room he had then got up slowly. He began to work his way over to where General O'Colin was sitting looking out one of the helicopter's small viewing windows. Zach worked a massive crick out of his neck and sat down. 

Over the roar of the chopper blades he said, "is anybody else coming with me on this mission?"

"No," Patrick yelled back, "most of them are dead or quit long ago. We haven't been able to reach any of them."

"What about, ohh damn what was her name," Zach cursed as he tried to recall the dust-covered name.

"Tanya?"

"Yeah, what about her?"

"She quit years ago." A smile crossed Patrick's face, "Her daughter Tanya-"

"Boy wasn't mush for names was she?"

"Guess not. As I was saying her daughter now works for us, however she's already on assignment."

Zach nodded and looked out the view port. He watched terrain speed by as they flew about 500 meters above the ground. After several minutes, Zach noticed that the helicopter was slowing down and descending. In moments it bounced onto the ground and the back ramp moved down. Patrick leapt up and told Zach to follow him. He obediently followed the General past the jeep and out into the semi-chilly Maine air.

Zach took a deep breath and sneezed. Damn allergies, he thought. He ducked to avoid the still spinning helicopter blades and followed Patrick to a small ranch home that sat not 20 meters from the chopper. As Zach matched pace with his superior he looked around. It was a desolate place much like his home; not another building as far as the eye could see.

An MP in the house opened the door as the duo approached and quickly shut it after they were inside. The whirr of the helicopter blades suddenly got more distant, it was taking off. The general walked into the kitchen of the house and opened the refrigerator. Inside was a stairwell that led to a heavy vault door. On one side of the door was a small black box that Patrick swiftly stuck his hand in. 

The General then moved next to a little black ball that protruded from the other side of the door. He stared into it for a moment then the door opened. Zach cautiously walked in almost as if he were entering an enemy held building. Inside dozens of people buzzed around several computer terminals, more sat around chit-chatting. On the far side of the room two massive electronic displays covered the wall. On each one were hundreds upon thousands of blue and red symbols superimposed of a map of the U.S.

Zach whistled softly, this is what war from behind a paper pusher's desk looked like. Patrick led Zach into a room with a small table and some chairs. He closed the door behind them and began a laid back type briefing. Zach did a once over of the cramped conference room and noticed a set of hand-held computers and a very peculiar weapon sitting on the table. He concluded that these would be explained later in the briefing so he turned back to the General.

"The op plan works like this. You get briefed here and then prepare for immediate transfer to the aircraft carrier _Chrono_ which is currently located about 200 kilometers from Miami. There you will be given a six hour rest period before you must prepare for the mission. Once ready a helicopter will take you about ten klicks from the _Red Mist_. You will perform a low level dive into the sea.

"From there a special trained group of dolphins will transport you to the target area..."

"_Dolphins_?"

"Oh it gets better. Intel reports several things: First, there are at least two Soviet squids in the area..."

"Holy shit man, this is really getting far out," Zach mused.

"Ahem," the General's temper was known for its shortness and Zach thought he was about to give another show. "There is also a Kirov re-supply and landing depot on land. A flight of the _Chrono's_ harrier jets will hit this facility from the South-west over the Everglades. The ensuing confusion should give you enough time to accomplish your mission.

"Once you reach the ship you'll use special magnetic gloves and boots to scale the hull. Secure the immediate area and proceed to the forward missile launchers." Patrick picked a remote control off the table and hit a button on it. A hidden projector displayed a schematic of the ship's upper deck on the far wall. "using some of the special computers you'll have with you, hack into a missile's computer and set it to detonate. Then proceed to the missile compartment."

The image on the wall turned to a floor layout of the second deck. "The compartment is down this hall pass the small barracks area. Our sources indicate the crew is on shore leave and only a small group of ten conscripts, 5 tesla troopers, and 2 flack troopers are on guard. I think you should find it rather easy to pick off sleeping targets.

"Once you have removed the threats, enter the missile room and plant the charges you will receive. Our scientists have determined that the Red Mist is very resilient to heat but weak to radiation. One of our think tanks created miniature neutron bombs for you to plant. They give of microburst of gamma and beta radiation, only enough to kill everything in about 600 meters, so you better high tail it out of there before those puppies cook off."

"Sounds easy enough," Zach muttered, "What about armament?"

Patrick reached over on the table and picked up the odd looking pistol. "This is our latest weapon in personal warfare. Known as the Bee Stinger, it uses compressed Carbon Dioxide-" the General pointed to a canister hanging off the barrel "-to fire little darts much like a paintball gun. The special magazine carries a total of 100 hairline darts each tipped with a powerful nerve toxin that acts within 1/100 of a second. In other words whoever gets hit by one of these things will be dead before they hit the ground. Unfortunately the needles don't have the momentum nor energy to pierce armor or hull plates."

Patrick handed the weapon to Zach. He looked over it in awe. One hundred little darts were packed into this thing with a chemical powerful enough to dispatch a grown man in no time flat. He looked down the small sights of the top of the gun and pulled the trigger. There was a muffled _pfft_ and a small explosion of dust as the needle impacted a nearby chair.

Zach moved closer to the seat to see a small micro-thin object protrude from where the needle had hit. He carefully plucked the dart from its position and looked it over. It was only as thin as a human hair yet seemed to be as strong as some metals.

"This is amazing," he muttered.

"It gets a little better, after a minute, the poison will evaporate. This means the Commies won't be able to get a sample and replicate it."

Zach got up from inspecting the needle and turned his attention to the electronic equipment that was strewn across the table. "What's up with all this stuff?"

Patrick picked up one piece of equipment no bigger than the palm of his hand. "This is a special Global Positioning Computer. It is linked to a constellation of satellites in low Earth orbit and will show your exact position plus that of the ship." He put the gizmo down and motioned toward a small circular disk. "This is a miniature signal jammer. Place it on the side of the ship as you climb up and it will put out large amounts of white noise on all known Soviet frequencies."

He continued down the table to a bundle of miniature electronic gizmos connected together. "This is your special combat outfit. It contains medical diagnostic equipment that sends us your current health condition, a micro film camera to record your mission, and a microphone so we can hear every curse you utter."

Patrick rammed the equipment into a duffle bag and handed it to Zach. Then he scanned his watch. "Oh, shit," he muttered, "You got a flight to catch."

He opened the door and motioned for Zach to follow. He led Zach out the secret command center and up the stairs into the main house. From there they exited a back door facing a run down barn. Zach glanced around interested in all the details. The barn didn't look like much just a run down pile of old timbers and rusted bolts. After a few minutes a humming sound escaped the barn and reached Zach's ears.

In moments the sound grew to an earsplitting crescendo and the door to the barn burst open. Out popped a tilt rotor heli-plane. Its wings were folded neatly flush with the body but Zach saw they were quickly deploying. When the wings were completely deployed, the twin turboprop engines roared to life and Patrick pushed Zach toward the open cargo hatch. "Don't come back without sinking that goddamn Commie ship!"

Zach nodded and jogged into the aircraft. He stowed his stuff and sat down in an extremely uncomfortable seat. In mere seconds the heli-plane had rolled down a short strip of grass and was airborne. After a quick ascent the thing leveled off and the engines began to pivot into a forward facing position. Next stop the USS _Chrono._

******************

Zach sat cross-legged in the middle of his cramped quarters on the Carrier _Chrono_. In the background Mozart's Piano Concerto in A major played its way into Zach's mind. He controlled everything thing he did, his breathing was deep and very relaxed, his muscles were completely lax, and his eyes stayed unmoving on the bulkhead in front of him. He cleared his mind of all thoughts and let his senses take over. He heard every _ding_ and creak of the metal hull; the soft, monotonous hum of the ship's massive screws. He felt the movements of the recycled air move gently across the surface of his skin. He tasted the metallic tastes in the air as he inhaled through his mouth. He smelt everything that cleaning agents couldn't get, the sweat, blood, and fear that were common on a warship.

After several moments of deep breathing he closed his eyes and let his senses form a picture his eyes couldn't see. Touch, smell, hearing, and taste became one scent that painted a hidden picture of the compartment. Then he let these senses go and called something up from deep inside him--a 6th sense. It took mere moments for this new sense to replace the others. It wasn't a physical sense but and emotional one. This is the sense that Yuri's psychics tried for years to find; it had taken three years in a Soviet prison camp under constant psychological torture to find this sense.

When he first activated it he was stunned by what happened. He no longer saw things or heard or felt things with this sense, he became part of them. It was believed that all things seem to share some sort of connection that dealt with quantum mechanics, parallel realities, and other mind numbing stuff like that. He now could hear thoughts, see memories, and touch other people's subconscious.

On this occasion he could touch the thoughts of all the crewmen aboard the ship. He saw their fear and apprehension as they came nearer to enemy territory. But it was not this that amazed Zach. If he concentrated his bubble of psychopathic feeling into a tiny area he could tap into the mends of rats, mice, cockroaches, and even _bacteria_. The minds of bacteria were about as interesting as pure black, but it was the fact that they had a conscious mind that Zach enjoyed. Occasionally one of these blank minds would come alive in a bolt as a single bacteria somewhere seemed to have a brainstorm, but as quickly as these occurrences started they ended.

Zach played with the minds of some harmless bacteria on his skin for a while before focusing on what he had started this meditation sequence for. He tuned out all the other thoughts that engulfed him and focused on his own. It had been years since he had done this but he new it was necessary. Zach would search his own mind for valuable data that he didn't wish to betray to the Commies in the event that he was captured. Fears, buried memories, and valuable intelligence were all safely locked away in mental walls, and thick blankets of fog and haze. It would take and experienced psychic freak to crack his mind.

After carefully filing all this information away, he created several false packets of information. This included a fake memory of being briefed about a possible invasion of Russia by China. He tucked these memories into secure places, but not as secure as the really juicy stuff.

Zach breathed a sigh of relief when he was completed, and his eyes fluttered open. His body felt refreshed, almost as if he had slept for several days. He willed himself to move and looked at his watch. _Holy shit,_ he thought. He been meditating for the past 4 hours, it was time to prepare for the mission ahead.

**********

The Black hawk helicopter bounced wildly in the air as it skimmed only mere meters from the ocean's surface. One large wave and it would all be over. Zach moved forward through the red lit passenger area to the cockpit. "How much further!?" He yelled above the roar of the chopper blades.

"About five minutes," the copilot responded.

Zach nodded and moved back to where he started. He crouched down near the wall of the passenger area and did a quick check of his equipment. On his left hip his Bee Stinger dart gun was firmly secured with Velcro and several straps. Under that in one of the large cargo pockets in his specially designed wet suit was an extra CO2 bottle and an extra magazine of one hundred-fifty darts. On his right hip hung a waterproof night vision monocular. Around his ankle was his trusty serrated combat knife that he had carried on his first mission he ever ran.

Around his torso was a mesh of equipment: two fragmentation grenades, a red flashlight, GPS navigation gear, med packs, the electronic interference bug, and the mission recorder equipment. On his back was a waterproof backpack containing a computer to hack into the missiles' detonation computer, two mini neutron bombs, an air re-breather system that could sustain him under water for two hours, and 10 kilos of C-4 plus detonators.

Once he was sure everything was secure, Zach allowed himself a moment to do meditation breathing to clear his mind. It had been a while since he had run a combat sortie and he'd forgotten what it felt like. His hands trembled, his breathing tried to become erratic, his heart sped up, and he felt like he had to puke his guts out. He inhaled and exhaled deeply, he focused on his mission and its importance. Training kicked in moments later and his feelings of anxiety disappeared, he was ready.

"Sixty seconds!"

He checked himself over once and then secured his oxygen mask and swimming mask. He breathed the pure oxygen at a normal rate trying not to loose control.

"Thirty seconds!"

The back access ramp to the chopper popped open and Zach could see the water below. It was a dark, moonless night so it wasn't anything totally awe inspiring but it was interesting nevertheless.

"Fifteen seconds!"

Zach edged closer to the ramp and prepare to jump out. The chopper was less then 5 meters above the water surface and descending. He could see the crests of waves reach up and try to hit the helicopter but they all fell only mere centimeters short. 

"Five...four...three..."

Two never came there was a massive shudder and the heli pitched and yawed wildly. They had hit a crosswind and were being thrown around like rag dolls.

"Hold it steady, dammit!" Zach cursed as he smashed into the chopper's armor plated side. _Shit, shit, shit, _Zach thought. This was quickly turning into a FUBAR type situation. The helicopter began to descend toward the ocean and below the safe limit. If Zach didn't act he'd be fish bait. He steadied himself with one hand and lunged for the open ramp. He jumped out into the night air only moments before the chopper heeled left and slammed into the ocean.

Debris flew by Zach as he hit the freezing water. He hadn't exactly landed right and he was now smarting for his mistake. Hell, he downright hurt. The feeling of pain and soreness flowed through his body. _God, its good to be back,_ Zach thought as he bobbed in the water.

He watched the helicopter bits sink quickly, there was no fire so so far the Commies hadn't been alerted. He quickly pulled out his GPS navigation computer. He switched on the power and got the warming image of a boot up screen on the monitor. After several seconds it showed his location and the ship's. He was right where he was supposed to be and was glad of that, the dolphins he heard were trained to go a specific location to pick him up.

That reminded him, where were the dolphins anyway? He was assured it would take less than a minute before they showed up to escort him. Zach scanned around the dark water. Zilch. Nadda. Nothing. Their was no movement that he could sense within a few hundred meters. That was very bad Juju. Zach frantically looked around for a second before he recomposed himself and tried something.

He began meditation breathing and quickly called up his sixth sense. He used it to scan the waters around him. Still nothing. Fish and plankton and even a small shark but nothing else. He concentrated harder and expanded his search bubble.

There!! He could sense a very human like mind. It had feelings of love, loyalty, trust, and hatred. Zach concentrated and sent a signal to the mind. It reacted to him almost as if talking. The mind began to send signals of duty and he could feel it closing. Zach snapped back into the real world to find himself surrounded by these incredible creatures.

They chattered to each other in their almost heavenly vocalizations. One of the dolphins surface in front of Zach and raised a flipper at him. Zach understood perfectly and reached out to take the creature's 'hand'. They were off in a flash. Zach watched in awe as the other dolphins fanned out in a protective sphere around him. Two swam ahead as scouts and two more fell back as rear guards.

He felt something in his mind and began to concentrate. It was almost as if the dolphin were trying to _communicate_ with him. He sensed images of reassurance and dedication. These creatures were almost sentient! Zach felt these thoughts for a few minutes before he felt the dolphin that he was holding on to let go.

Zach swiveled his head back and forth watching the dolphins disperse to cover Zach till his extraction. He quickly surfaced and looked around. A humungous shadow loomed over Zach. The _Black Dawn _sat bobbing like a cork less then 500 meters from Zach. It was a good 300 meters long and about 75 tall. It was silhouetted against a half moon and the lights of nearby Miami.

Zach stared at it for several moments before s-l-o-w-l-y swimming toward it. About thirty minutes later and 150 meters he dove underneath the water's surface. He swam strait to the bottom which was only a good 10 meters down. There he took off his re-breather and mask. He unbuckled his weight belt and attached it to the swim gear then took one last gulp of air from the re-breather before swimming to the surface. His lungs burned for air by the time he broke the surface and he gasped for it as soon as he could.

Zach floated for several seconds regaining his proper breathing and preparing for the arduous task ahead. He began to slowly make his way to the ship again this time weapon drawn and eyes searching the waters carefully.

At 75 meters there was a roar of jet engines and Zach looked skyward. A flight of 3 Harrier jets cruised at merely 20 meters above the water toward Miami. They passed over Zach and then split apart to minimize losses. They roared onward and at a specific time launched their missile load. Each missile left a brilliant streak of lighted gases behind as they rocketed through the air toward their targets.

In under three seconds massive balls of fire erupted from Miami. The Kirov Airship landing site had been hit bad. The fuel tanks and bomb depots had been struck primarily. One airship was destroyed when a barrage of two missiles slammed into it as it came to a landing, another of the behemoth airships was engulfed in the fireball from the fuel farm.

The Harrier planes broke quickly and rolled to face their escape route. They left quickly but not before one was shot down by a small Soviet patrol boat armed with three 37mm anti-aircraft cannons. The other two escaped unharmed to the Northeast.

Zach bobbed in the water praying that the Patrol boats wouldn't come in his direction. After a good five minutes he was sure they had formed the standard protective circle around the docks at Miami. This meant that they wouldn't be coming near him for some time. Zach now began to leisurely swim toward his target.

After another ten minutes his hand touched its smooth, metallic surface. Zach looked at his watch, he had less than one and a half hours before sunrise. Satisfied that he wasn't too far behind schedule Zach slipped on his special magnetic gloves and shoes, he then strapped the special night-vision monocular to his head. With one moment to relax Zach took a deep breathe of cool air. Then he put his hands firmly on the ship's hull and hoisted his body out of the water. Inch by painstaking inch he climbed the ship, his eyes scanned the ship's rail above him looking for the telltale heat signature of a cigarette. Nothing, that was good.

Halfway up the ship Zach stopped and pulled out the special scrambler bug that he was to attach to the ship. He clicked it on and the firmly secured it to the plate armor. Zach then began to climb the last and most dangerous part of the ship. If someone caught him as he climbed over the top he'd be fish food in no time flat.

At long last he reached the top of the ship. He took one last deep breath then vaulted the rail. In seconds he was in a kneeling position , weapon drawn and eyes sweeping the deck. Nothing, once again a good thing. He carefully got up and darted quietly into the shadows. He scanned again before proceeding toward the bow of the ship. He stayed hidden within the shadows aware of everything around him.

He slowly made his way, but it had to be like this-one slip up and it was all over. Eventually he rounded the last of the ship's massive bridge area and he could see his first objective, the two missiles in their launching position on the ship's foredeck. But something else also caught Zach's weary eye. About twenty meters in front of the left most missile was a man smoking his favorite cigarette. He was obviously a Tesla soldier, the Soviet Union's elite shock (literally) infantry. The man wore a thick leather under suit covered with a special metal armor over his torso. On his left arm was a odd looking device that Zach new could put forth enough electricity to fry a tank or roast a person.

Zach watched the trooper puff the cigarette. The man's protective, dome like helmet had been popped open and hung behind him. Zach had to do something quick or risk being seen. He bolted from his hiding space to in between the two missiles. He then edged down the length of the two twenty meter long destructive devices to a position right behind the Tesla trooper. Zach held his breath then bolted toward the unsuspecting man. He reached around the helmet and grabbed the guy's head. In one fluid motion he twisted and snapped the trooper's neck like a twig. Zach eased the body to the ground and then rolled it under the rail. 

Zach darted back into the shadows even before the corpse splashed into the water. He knelt in the darkness controlling his breathing and listening for any sign of approaching Commies. He was rewarded by almost complete silence. After several tense moments he rolled cautiously under one of the two huge missiles that sat ready to launch on the ship's bow. He crawled up the length of the missile until he came to the warhead section. Every so slowly and carefully he opened a small access hatch on the bottom of the missile.

His right hand reached into his backpack and produced a miniature hand held computer. He plugged it into a small port in the missile's control computer. He then turned the miniature device on and stared at the LCD screen. On it was displayed the contents of the missile's onboard computer. It gave velocity, telemetry, thrust, etc and one important thing that Zach was looking for, detonation sequences. He called up that file on his handheld to find it password encrypted. In a few short keystrokes Zach had the computer chew through the password with special hacker software.

He called up a detonation sequence and set the timer for twenty minutes. Once completed Zach put in a new password so no one could de-arm the weapon and put a special feature on the warhead that if the new password was entered again the warhead would explode. Initial objective complete Zach unplugged his computer and stowed it securely in its proper place.

Zach was about to put the access hatch back on the missile when something in Zach told him to roll. And roll he did just as an automatic round smashed into the place where his head had been. He rolled out from under cover to see a Soviet Conscript in heavy trench coat and special combat helmet standing only meters away. The soldier had fired a round from his AK-47 but now it appeared jammed (a rare occurrence for such a weapon). Zach reached for his Bee Stinger pistol only to find it had come undone and sat under the missile where Zach had just been.

He had few options so in one swift motion he leapt from prone position toward the soldier standing there. The conscript had thrown his weapon away and was now prepared to fight hand to hand. And boy could that bastard fight. He side stepped out of Zach's way and brought one elbow down on the Commando's neck. Zach cursed loudly as he smashed into the metal of the ship's deck.

He quickly got up shrugging the pain off and began a new approach. Zach feinted left, then right, then feinted half left before dropping to the deck and sweeping the legs out from underneath the soldier. The guy flailed his arms wildly to try to regain his balance. Zach then proceeded to come up with an upper cut to the jaw and a quick knee to the balls. The conscript doubled over obviously not expecting such a fight and as he did Zach brought up his knee to make contact with his opponents face. The Commie went limp and Zach rolled him over. His nose was bleeding profusely and his jaw appeared to be badly broken. In one fluid motion Zach reached for his favorite combat knife and slit the bugger's meaty throat. No need for him to wake up and come after Zach in a merciless rampage for revenge.

Something entered Zach's constantly alert ears. The soft _clink_!_ clink_! of combat boots on a ship's metal hull. He whirled around to find a massive, no neck Flack trooper growling in front of him. The bastard barked something in Russian which Zach couldn't follow. The guy carried on his left shoulder a man packed 20mm anti-air gun. It was perfect for bringing down choppers, jets, and grinding up infantry. But this was one smart sucker, if he'd used the weapon shrapnel from the shells would've pierced the missiles and ended everything in an instant.

The Flack trooper quickly dropped his weapon, not wishing to turn the ship into one massive fire works show, and produced a long, serrated combat knife. Zach groaned not wishing to enter in a knife fight. His eyes darted around looking for and alternative and shortly one appeared. On the dead conscript's waist hung a semi-auto, 9mm pistol. Zach rolled over the corpse, hand extended to pluck the weapon from its holster. When he hit the deck he swiveled around, brought the gun up, and stitched the new Commie with a quick, three round burst.

The bullets brought the cocksucker down in no time, his massive form crashed to the metal hull.

Zach stood up and surveyed the damage. Three baddies waxed, one missile jurry-rigged to explode, and 19 minutes and 10 seconds to the Fourth of July. Time to hustle.

He hurried over to retrieve his lost Bee Stinger and discarded the conscript's 9mm piece of crap. Zach then hurried toward the lower entrance of the ship's superstructure. He gripped the handle to the hatch securely and prepped himself to make his first entrance. He swung the door open and brought his weapon up. His eyes darted left-right-left to make sure the passage was secure. Nothing.

He carefully entered the ship, he put one foot softly in front of the other not wanting to make an excess of noise. Bee Stinger at a low-ready position, he crept towards the first door. He opened it up quickly and scanned with his weapon--an empty access hall. Zach moved on to the next hatch. Once again an empty hall.

It may have been cool aboard the ship, but Zach was sweating buckets by the time he reached a bunk room. He eased the door open and peeked inside. There were 3 guys snoring away loudly on the bunks. In a far corner rested their rifles and other gear. Careful not to make a sound, he raised his weapon in put one dart into each soldier. They stopped breathing almost instantly and would never know what had happened.

_Sweat dreams,_ Zach thought as he shut the hatch and moved on to the next one. Once again he carefully opened the hatch, but this time on the top bunk in front of the hatch sat one Commie. He was wearing boxers and a white shirt and in one hand was some American porn magazine. The guy looked up startled as Zach entered. The poor guy reached in a futile attempt under his mattress but his life ended before he could find his hidden weapon.

Zach lowered his pistol and exited the now secure room. He made his way carefully further into the annals of the ship. He came across equipment lockers and janitorial rooms. Thee mess hall was empty and so was a small game room. Finally he came upon what he was looking for. The hatch in front of him had MISSILE ROOM written in Russian across its front.

Zach quickly checked his watch. Fifteen minutes till the missile blew, time to hurry. He cracked the hatch and peeked in. Three men stood at a control panel about ten meters away and behind several crates. He opened the door a little further and carefully slipped inside. He scooted against the left wall behind a crate labeled SPARE PARTS. He stole a quick peek over the crate and saw the three guys were packing heat.

More interestingly were the uniforms and insignia they wore. Zach searched his mind until it hit him. These guys were fricken KGB commandos. SHIT. That was very bad Juju. Intel hadn't said anything about these bastards.

Zach lowered his head back behind the crate and thought for a moment. If there were three, there had to be more and that meant that Zach was royally screwed. He peeked over the crate again to find one of the commandos look in his direction. Zach's eyes locked with the Commies and then all hell broke loose. The guy rolled left and yelled something to his companions in fast-fire Russian. One managed to pull out a semi-auto submachine gun from inside an overcoat he wore while the other one ducked behind a crate. Things had just entered the FUBAR zone.

Zach rolled left out from behind cover and fired a quick two dart burst at the nearest Commie. The guy didn't expect to be shot at by darts so he was quickly nailed by one of the fatal projectiles. His friend however didn't like that. He stood up and let loose a long stream of lead towards Zach. Zach rolled to another crate and hunkered down as the bullets whizzed past him. When the male storm ended, he quickly got up and leapt over the crate at the Commie who was now trying to ram a new clip into his gun.

_Too late_. Zach landed in front of him and shot two darts into his chest. The corpse slumped over and revealed the third and final Commie strafing out from behind a control panel. His gun spat lethal death at Zach who quickly dodged for cover. As he flew through the air toward the safety of yet another crate, he was struck by something in the left leg. He felt blood begin to flow and a wave of burning agony race its way up his body.

When he landed he took a look at his leg. It had to be ricochet because it was a long tear down his wet suit leg, not a bloody hole. With no time to worry about such trivial problems Zach hobbled upright and saw the last baddie standing a mere three meters away, his eyes burned with rage and his face was cut from a piece of flying debris. The guy let out a guttural shout then flung himself at Zach. But Zach was having none of that, he quickly raised his weapon and double tapped the Commie in the chest. The Red's body hit the deck with a sickening thump and ceased to move.

Zach let out a quick sigh of relief then checked out his injured leg. There was 5 centimeter gash down the thigh into the knee area. It bled a lot and hurt like hell, but Zach had a tight schedule to keep so he hobbled over to the console where he had first seen the Commie commandos. It was a master control board for the 30 missiles that sat in storage behind him. He scanned it quickly and realized that the Commies had been arming the missiles. That was very odd. The ship had about 20 hours till it set out for sea and would take at least a day to reach Europe.

Zach brushed the thoughts aside. _Must've been bad intel on our part,_ he thought as he holstered his weapon and approached the missiles in storage. They were 20 meters long with thin, needle like bodies and black caps on the tip. Zach quickly counted all the missiles to make sure none had been moved elsewhere then fastened the two mini-neutron bombs to the center missiles. He looked at his watch. Ten minutes to the Fourth. Zach quickly punched the arming codes into the neutron bombs and set their detonators for nine minutes.

Job completed, Zach crept out of the missile room and down the main access corridor. He was about to climb a set of stairs to the ship's upper deck when a small knot of five KGB commandos rounded a corner and almost collided with Zach. The Russian commandos looked at Zach dumbfounded for an instant before yelling loudly in Russian and drawing their weapons.

In that split instant Zach leapt toward an open door on the other side of the hall and drew his weapon out. Bullets whizzed past him as he scrambled behind a desk and regained himself. His hand went to his chest and grasped firmly onto one of the frag grenades he carried. He pulled the pin with all his might, counted to three, rolled from behind the desk, and heaved the grenade out the door. Still counting the seconds he scrambled to the other side of the room and covered his ears. The ship shook with a thunderclap as the weapon detonated. Smoke and debris filled the room turning it into one big smokehouse.

Zach got up and slowly made his way to the door, his weapon in the low ready position and his eyes sweeping left-right-left. He exited the room into what had been the corridor but was now a pile of twisted metal, pipes, and the corpses of the Russkies. He dodged back toward the stairwell and bolted toward the upper decks. He reached the watertight door leading out and found it sealed from the outside. Zach cursed and pounded the door, he had lost all surprise and now was probably being hunted by all troops aboard the ship.

Odds were they were setting up and ambush on the other side of the door because it was Zach's only route of escape. Zach backed off a minute and let his senses go. Yup, they were setting up behind the door and a second group was closing in behind him. Damn, Intel had really screwed up on identifying how many Commies would be on the ship. Well doom on them.

Zach took off his backpack and produced 2 kilos of C4 and one detonator. He stuck the C4 to the door's locking mechanism then put a detonator of the clump of explosive. He set the detonator for thirty seconds then ran like hell back down the stairwell. He found a small janitor's closet behind the stairs, one deck down and ducked inside. He covered his ears and braced himself.

Moments later the ship rocked as if an earthquake had hit and there was a deafening thunderclap. Zach exited the closet carefully, then made his way up the mangled stairwell. At the top he was greeted by a big hole where the hatch had been and a cloud of dust and debris. Automatic rounds bounced off the far wall as the soldiers on the other side let loose with their weapons.

Zach reached for his last grenade, pulled the pin, counted, and heaved it out the hole in the ship. He heard screams then the explosion then more screams. Using the confusion he bolted out the hole into the night air weapon spewing darts in every direction. Movement caught his eye. He fired two darts toward it. A muzzle flash in the smoke, two more darts. He kept firing till he cleared the smoke and was greeted by the ship's railing.

In one fluid motion he hurdled the rail and dove perfectly into the water 20 meters below. He hit the water with barely a splash and began to swim as if his life depended on it-and his life did depend on it. He swam till his lungs burned then surfaced to gulp the cool air before swimming on. Before he surfaced a second time bullets started to crash into the water around him. The shots were random and posed no threat to him so Zach continued on at his semi-frantic pace.

After several minutes he began to float on his back so he could watch the fire works. He judged his distance safe from the radiation that would be spewed forth by the neutron bombs, so he let his body just float leisurely. After a few long, dragged out seconds the bow of the ship erupted in a huge fireball followed by other secondary explosions as rocket fuel for the missiles' ignited . In mere moments the massive hulk of the _Black Dawn_ slipped serenely beneath the surface and disappeared. Not a single survivor to tell the true story, _a job well done._ Now Zach began to swim to the rendezvous site for an extraction to home.

This is my first Fan Fic so don't burn me too badly. I hope to right several more stories in this particular saga. And if you like Real Time Strategy games go out and buy Red Alert 2 NOW.


End file.
